And he had, for a stout man, quite a good chin.

In passing us he exchanged nods with the friend I was with and smiled.
My friend was Hollis, the fellow who had so many adventures and had known so many queer people in that part of the (more or less) gorgeous East in the days of his youth.

He said: "That's a good man.

I don't mean good in the sense of smart or skilful in his trade.

I mean a really _good_ man." I turned round at once to look at the phenomenon.